Not My Fault
by TarlsBlack
Summary: Ziva OneShot. First person perspective - which I love to write. Enjoy!


**Hey guys, I know I should be working on If I Could but this story was right at the top of my head for about 24 hours and I figured I should write it down. There's some stuff in here that I added, because we haven't been told the information, so I just threw it in there for fun. I really need to work on my descriptive writing so that's what I did here. :) **

**If you recognise it, it's not mine. Enjoy!**

* * *

I stepped out of the elevator and was greeted very quickly by a chirpy, "Ziva David, good morning, good morning." I glanced wearily at the man who was bounding along beside me like a kitten… no, a puppy.

"Morning." I said. We continued into the bull pen, where I put my bag down next to my desk and had a sip of my coffee. It was the only thing that was going to keep me awake today. He sat at his desk and stared at me.

"Something is awry. But it's OK, Very Special Agent Dinozzo is on the case." He announced, speaking into his stapler as if it was a microphone.

"Gear up," My boss said, as he made his way into the bullpen. Coffee in hand, he grabbed his bag and continued on his way, "Got a dead marine," Tony snatched his go bag from the floor and I followed suit. As we followed our boss, he threw the keys behind him at me, "You're driving, Ziva." Tony groaned quietly and Gibbs shot him a look over his shoulder. We stepped into the elevator and Gibbs pressed the button.

As we left the elevator on the ground floor, McGee burst into the building. Upon seeing us, however, he backed out of the door he had just entered and waited for Gibbs to leave.

"Sorry I'm late boss, got held up, won't happen again." McGee tried to catch his breath.

"Never say you're sorry McGee. Just don't let it happen again." Gibbs replied. All four of us made our way to the MCRT van, where I hopped in the driver's seat. I buckled my seatbelt and put the key in the ignition. Wiping my eyebrow with my hand, I started the engine, and we were off.

I spotted the M.E. van at the crime scene and I pulled to a stop behind it.

"You drove better today." Tony remarked. I gave him a dirty glance, but knew that what he had said held more truth than I wanted to admit. I had driven slower than usual to give my aching body a chance to recover, before I had to investigate today's dead body.

I didn't respond, and we all got out of the van. I walked closer to the scene, flashing my badge at the officer on the barricade, and putting my gloves on as I went. Ducky was already examining the body. I knelt down beside him and gave the body a once over.

The body was a young man, in his mid-20's, laying on his back. He had been shot once in the head, execution style. What wasn't usual for an execution was his hands and feet being bound together, or the thick rope that was around his body. There was no bruising around the rope around his hands and feet and I quickly surmised the situation.

"Post mortem?" I asked. The doctor nodded, confirming my suspicions. I stood and stepped around the body to examine his other side. I noticed a piece of paper lodged between the rope and his wrist and I waved for McGee to take a photo of it before I removed it to take a closer look. What I had assumed was paper, was in fact a business card and I read the name on it aloud, "Mia Jones, lawyer." McGee took a photo of that too. I stood up, and showed the card to Gibbs who quickly instructed me to put it in an evidence bag, but remember where I put it, for I was going to be ringing that number once we found out who the man was.

I started wandering a little away from the gathering of people and ended up on top of a small hill. I could see a few fields, and a house maybe 400 metres from where I stood. I called for Gibbs to join me, and he traipsed up the hill towards me.

"Take Dinozzo, check it out." Gibbs said. I called for Tony, and he took great pleasure in running up the hill towards me, almost knocking me over in the process.

As we made our way over to the house, he told me with delight about a movie he had seen the evening previously, "The best part was when Bruce Willis went…" He trailed off, "Ziva? You listening?" It took me a moment to realise that he was now talking directly to me.

"Um, sorry, just in my own galaxy." I said.

"World," He corrected. He smiled and I shrugged. The house was only a few metres from us now, and the front door opened, which shut him up. An older woman stepped out, holding a large axe. Her stance was a well-meaning one; clearly, she had used the axe before, and was not afraid to use it again, "NCIS ma'am." Tony said, holding up his badge and I.D. for her to see.

"What are Navy cops doing on my property?" She asked, with a slight Southern drawl. She lowered the axe a little, but she could still strike us, should she have wanted to.

"How do you know we're Navy Cops?" Tony asked, faintly amused. He had a right to find it funny; not very many people knew what NCIS was.

"My son works for y'all," She replied. Tony and I stopped partway from the bottom of the steps, and she laughed, "Y'all can come in, I ain't gonna hit ya." She turned and we followed her into her small house. We stepped into a small loungeroom, and we continued into a small dining room, where she put the axe in the corner and gestured for us to sit down. She put the kettle on and set about making us coffee.

"Who's you're son?" Tony asked. Only Very Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo would want to make small talk in the middle of an investigation. I shot him a look, and he shrugged.

"Tim McGee." She said proudly. A sinister smile creeped onto Tony's face and I glared at him.

"You're McGee's Mum?" He asked.

"You know him?" She asked, sliding two steaming mugs our direction, and sitting across from us. I pulled the mug closer to me and felt the heat warm my hands quickly.

"Yeah, he's only a few fields away. Why don't you come and see him?" Tony asked. I took a sip from the mug, and closed my eyes. It was very nice to be away from the rush of the office.

"Of course. After we finish our drinks though. What did you come here for?" She asked, getting down to business. She had purposely gotten him back on topic. I was experienced at reading people, and she was deflecting, hiding something she didn't want us knowing.

"There's a dead marine. Did you see or hear anything?" Tony asked. She shook her head.

"I don't hear anything, it's very quiet out here." She said. I took a few more long gulps of the coffee and it was gone in less than a minute. I put the mug carefully back on the table and ran my hands along it. The wood was smooth and I knew it to be White Oak, an expensive but beautiful timber.

"You didn't even hear a strange noise in the night? Maybe something that made you wonder what was out there?" He pressed.

"Nothing." She said. I watched her carefully and my gut told me she was telling the truth on that.

"You have a very nice table here, did you make it yourself?" I finally spoke up.

She shook her head and laughed, "No my dear, I'm too old to make my own furniture. Timothy made this for me." Tony glanced at me, shock resonating on his face. I shook my head and gave him a warning look. I had not known about McGee's talent either, but this was something he had carefully avoided to mention, and I had a pretty good idea why.

"OK, well, we need to be getting back." I said, sliding my mug over to her.

"I must come and see Timothy." She said, taking both our mugs and placing them on the sink. She grabbed her own mug as well, and washed it out, before placing it carefully on the bench. I had noticed before that 'For You' was written on it, and it was obviously very special to her. I stood, followed by Tony, and Tim's Mum followed us out. She put big black boots on and we trudged over to the team.

Tim and Gibbs looked up and spotted us coming, and Tim stopped what he was doing almost immediately. He watched us approach him, and then he put the camera down and hugged his mother. He stepped away from her and smiled at us.

"Gibbs, this is my Mum, Cathy. Guys, I guess you already met her." He said. Tony nodded and grinned.

"Yeah." Tony spoke for both of us.

"Nice to meet you Mrs McGee." Gibbs held out his hand and Cathy shook it.

"I'm not a McGee anymore, I'm a Porter, but please call me Cathy. Nice to meet you too Agent." She said.

"It's Gibbs," My boss said. She nodded, "What did you find out Dinozzo?"

"Well, Cathy didn't hear anything." Tony said. Ducky came up to us and Gibbs turned to him.

"T.O.D. Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"3 to 4 am. Preliminary cause of death is obviously the gunshot wound to the back of the head." The old doctor said. Behind him, Jimmy was loading the body into the M.E. van. We seemed to be done here.

Back in the bullpen, I ran the modus operandi through our systems. Nothing came up, so I checked my emails. I didn't have any new ones, so I decided to go and get some chips from the vending machine, and then go and visit Ducky. I wandered towards the lunch room and put my money in the slot. Deciding on a packet of Doritos, I clicked D1 and took my chips. I hopped on the elevator and rode it down to Autopsy. As I stepped out of the elevator, I slipped slightly and banged my side against the door frame of the elevator. I winced; it had hurt.

I stepped into Autopsy and suddenly knew what I had to do, "Ducky, may I speak with you?" I asked, giving Jimmy a well-meaning stare.

"I will, uh, take this up to Abby." Jimmy held up an evidence bag and walked quickly past me. Ducky took off his eye protection and gloves and approached me.

"Of course my dear, what is on your mind?" He asked, approaching me. I put the Dorito packet on an examination table and cleared my throat.

"Well, I, um, I," I trailed off. I figured it would be better to show him, so I lifted up my shirt, to show a massive black and blue bruise on my left side.

"Oh, my dear, whatever have you done to yourself?" He asked, stepping forward and carefully touching the area. He leaned in closely to get a better look and I winced as he pressed harder.

"I slipped." I lied to my friend. I knew that if he knew the truth he would be very worried, and I couldn't have that. The man examining my side was more than a friend though; he was my mentor, and a colleague that I respected. He pulled my shirt down and stood up to his full height. Even then, he wasn't as tall as I.

"My dear, you should have gone to a hospital. You may have bruised or fractured some ribs." He said. He was stating what I had already guessed.

"I just need you to give me some painkillers." I said to him. He raised an eyebrow at my request. I had never once asked him for painkillers, and had never so much as taken a Panadol at work. I was not a big fan of medication, or showing that I was in pain, so asking was cause for concern. But I had to do it, I was sore, and needed something to stop it.

"OK," He walked into his small office and I could hear him opening drawers, and the rustling of papers. He came back to me with a small foil square, with four pills in it, "One a day for the next four days." He told me. I took it and popped one, right there in front of him. Then I put the foil in my pocket, for later.

"Thanks." I said.

"Sit, my dear girl, and have a rest for a few moments. When did you hurt yourself?" He asked, pointing to the chair at his desk. I turned the chair around so it was facing the room. I sat, grateful for the repose.

"Um, yesterday," I told him. At least that part was true. He pulled a chair from inside his office and put it facing me. He sat on it and watched me for a moment. I felt like he wanted more information so I said, "I tripped up some stairs. At home."

"Ah. Stairs can hurt," He said. I nodded and bit my lip. It was the only thing I could do to prevent the tears from spilling over, "Are you alright?" He asked. I nodded. I stood and walked a little way away from him, towards the body on the table. I pretended to examine the Y – cut on the young man's chest, carefully sewn up by Ducky. But my mind wasn't on the case, it was on my shambles of a life. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, I turned and walked back to Ducky.

"Yeah, I'm just sore." I said.

"Maybe you should tell Jethro." He suggested.

"Tell me what?" I turned and saw my boss enter Autopsy.

"Um, nothing Gibbs," I said. I turned back to the doctor, "Thanks Ducky." I said. He nodded. I turned and fled the room and jumped in the elevator before Gibbs had a chance to question what had just gone on.

"His name was Drew Howell." McGee said, as I walked back into the bullpen. I nodded and picked up the phone as I sat down. I punched in the number for the lawyer, Mia Jones and waited for someone to answer. It went to messagebank and I left a message for Miss Jones to call me back as soon as possible. I hung up the phone and swore. When I looked up I saw that McGee and Tony were both looking at me, mouths wide open.

"What?" I demanded. When neither man answered, I stood, "What are you both looking at? Am I not allowed to swear? Am I not allowed to be a little upset that I failed at something in my job?" By now I was fully yelling, "Well I am sorry that I used a swear word! I'm sorry that I'm not good enough!" And I stormed out of the room.

I paced around the lunch room, back and forth and back and forth. My side was sore, and I swallowed a second pill that Ducky had given me, even though I probably shouldn't have. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I never yelled, never even raised my voice slightly and now I had had a go at two people that I cared about. I stopped pacing and sighed. How had I gotten myself into this mess? I groaned and sat down at a table. I traced the wood of the table with my right index finger.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" A gruff voice asked. I looked up and saw Gibbs.

"You saw that?" I asked.

"The last sentence." He said. He sat down opposite me and put his coffee on the table. I rubbed my face and looked up at him. His steely gaze was on me.

"I don't know what it was about. It just happened." I replied. He took a sip of the steaming hot coffee before speaking.

"Talk to me." He said. I ran my hand through my hair and gulped.

"I can't." I said. I stared at the coffee in his hands and tears welled up in my eyes.

"Ziva," He said. I looked up. Concern was mounting in his eyes, "I'm sure you can." I shook my head. I really didn't know how to tell him what was going on in my life.

"Gibbs, I appreciate your concern, but I can't tell you." I said.

"I hope that one day you can trust me enough to tell me what's going on in your head." He said, before standing and leaving the room. I stood to and hit the vending machine with my closed fist. I pulled my hand back again but it was grabbed from behind. I was spun around and I yelled out. They grabbed my whole body and I could feel the warmth of them on me.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I shouted.

"Calm down, Ziva. Calm down." A voice murmured. I tried to focus on who it was but I couldn't. It wasn't anyone. It was just a blur of human and I fought to get away. But they held on and I couldn't get away. I yelled out again and they repeated their mantra. I slowly focused on the person and realised that it was Tony.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I whispered. He led me down to the ground and let go of my wrist.

"It's OK, Ziva," He said. I pulled away from him and sat cross legged on the floor. He made himself comfortable on the floor too, "Wanna tell me what's going on?" He asked.

"Can we go and see Ducky?" I asked. I needed the comfort of more than one friend while I was in such a state. He nodded, stood and helped me up. I winced. While he was holding me, he had been pushing into my sore side, but I hadn't felt it until now. I reached into my pocket and took out a third pill. Popping it into my mouth, we headed for the elevator.

In the elevator, I was a bit wobbly, and Tony held me up. The elevator dinged and we stepped into Autopsy. I started feeling woozy and I fell into Tony.

"Ducky!" He yelled, as he let me fall onto the ground. I didn't blackout and I sat up. Ducky rushed into the small foyer between Autopsy and the elevator and knelt down beside me.

"Are you OK, Miss David?" He asked. I shook my head. He stood and he helped me stand up. Both men helped me into the chair that I had been sitting in earlier in the day. I pulled out the pill packet and showed Ducky, "Oh Ziva, you didn't." He said.

"The pain just wouldn't stop." I replied.

"I understand," He said. He glanced at Tony, "Anthony, can you please give us a minute?" Tony nodded and left the room. The chair that Ducky had been sitting on earlier was still there, and he sat on it again, "Tell me what's going on." He said.

"I was pregnant," I said, fighting the tears, "I had a miscarriage a week ago. And my boyfriend, he wasn't happy. He wanted a baby so bad, and blamed me. He's been really upset about it, and last night he got drunk and he, he…" I couldn't say it.

"He hit you?" Ducky asked gently. I nodded and he moved the chair next to me, so he could hug me. Gibbs came into view in front of me and I gasped. I hadn't wanted him to know.

"It was my fault. I should have been more careful. The baby should be alive." I said, pulling away from him. Gibbs knelt down to my level and held my hand.

"It is not your fault. It is never your fault." He said. I nodded, and let the tears slide down my face.


End file.
